Once a month, Bria rents the art gallery in Storybrooke. They were one of the first places to help her feature her art and since she's been a loyal renter. Sometimes, if things are going well, she'll rent it twice a month. When they do galleries featuring multiple artists they often times feature hers among the others if it suits the theme. The relationship is beneficial for both parties involved. Especially since Bria always (or almost always) sells at least once painting per a gallery thanks to her few loyal customers. Her prices are reasonable, she only makes anyone pay becuase she needs to live some how. Her real passion is sharing the joy of her art with others.
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A daydream spills from my corked head
Breaks free of my wooden neck
Left a nod over sleeping waves
Like bobbing bait for bathing cod
Floating flocks of candled swans
Slowly drift across wax ponds
Branches like cobwebs intertwined above, mushroom caps and moss dotting the ground beneath. He was somewhere in between the two, though not there at all. Mostly. A smile hovered in the air where he should- shouldn’t be. It didn’t make sense, just like it shouldn’t. But to Chess, everything made perfect nonsense. It was beautiful, the reason why he loved his home. His tail, the only part other than his smile that wanted to show itself, was straight up in the ear, quivering every so slightly as he wove between low hanging branches and signs. Even the darkest thickets in the midst of the Tulgey Wood were brighter and lovelier than any part of any other realm. From the signs carefully crafted by the birds and bugs, to the luminescent fungus on the ground below, everything was odd, horrifying to the lost. But to the mad, to people like him, there was nothing more exquisite.
A purr escaped his lips as more of him appeared, the pink stripes that made their way down from the top of his neck to the tip of his tail. The sudden appearance shocked a few of the bread-n-butterflies that had been resting on a nearby branch. For a second, he darted after them, purple fur appearing as he darted under a branch, to paw at the buttered wings. His claws were sheathed, however, and with another purr and a wicked grin, he darted away again. He’d bested the butterfly, faster and fiercer. But he wouldn’t hurt one. The residents of Wonderland were mad, not malicious. The unaligned ones weren’t, anyways. They all left that to the Red Queen and her court.
Fluttering down to the ground to land silently, Chess watched as the mushrooms under his paws grew brighter, and as more of them, one’s leading deeper into the forest, glowed as well. The perfect way to get hopelessly lost. And for a moment, the Cheshire Cat debated following them, certain of the way in and out, before deciding against it. There was nothing new in the Tulgey Woods, and that was what he had been craving when he'd set off. And with that, he lifted himself up again, disappearing as he went up. His grin flickered in and out of existence as he flew, but otherwise only the air was disturbed.
Chess flew without meaning forward for a while, then back the way he’d come. But no matter which way he flew, he seemed to travel away, following directions that would only make sense in the most twisted of minds. Lucky for the cat, he had one of the most marvelously mad mind of all.
The Red Castle… His head flickered into view, seemingly dismembered. And, with his body nonexistent at that moment, it was. I’ve lost my head… His body reappeared, head gone in that same moment. A wild giggle escaped, seemingly out of nowhere, before everything but his grin disappeared, his favorite way to fly. The Tea Party? 'Twas a shame that he’d already had more than his share of tea, and for the time being his invitation had been revoked. Forbidden… The March Hare would invite him back soon enough, the madmen were all more than fond of their favorite Cheshire. The Ocean? He’d played a prank on the Walrus, leading the oysters to disappear. Probably not the wisest move. And the cat had a particular dislike of getting wet, anyways. The Garden? The flowers weren’t particularly fond of Cheshire, considering him a pest. It seemed that he was stuck floating, for a while, unable to decide where to go.
But the clouds were as good as any place on the ground. Wisps of fluff hovered, just as Chess did, but suspended in place. They tasted like nothing when they got caught in his smile, but he didn’t doubt that it was his present lack of a tongue that rendered them flavorless. No one else in Wonderland flew this high, leaving the exploring the sky a freedom that only Cheshire got to experience. Only the dormant Jabberwock and Absolem, who was currently in his larval state again, could fly this high. Substantial air meant nothing to a creature who half was, and half wasn’t, Cheshire’s delight.
The sky was his, even the sun beneath the catless grin. Nothing more beautiful could exist, nothing more thrilling, not even in Wonderland, than the sun and moon, both looking up in an attempt to catch a glimpse of the Cheshire Cat.
Sharing among roommates isn't all that uncommon. Be it intentionally or 'borrowing' from the other without permission. It's something most people who've lived with others understand just happens. However, with men and women living together, even married couples often have separate things. Like shampoo, conditioner or even deodorant. However, when it comes to Beck she just finds it easier to use Jake's. He questioned it at first but over the time they've lived together he's stopped bothering. He'll even go as far as to ensure he gets the brand and scents that Beck favors using. Aside from the basic toiletries, Beck also borrows Jake's tee shirts and hoodies on a regular basis.
Once upon a time, the future was of the upmost importance to Nicholas. It looked so bright, he was about to graduate at the top of his class, and going to marry the girl of his dreams. But when she left him, he lost that future, the one he'd been dreaming of for years. There would be no more wedding, no family or children, without her. And graduating lost his glamour, Nicholas beginning to wonder if his having to spend time on schoolwork pushed her away. He did finish school, but he no longer cared about accounting, in a spiral of self pity and misery instead. He refused to think about the future. There was nothing there for him now. There didn't even seem to be anything for him when the cafe opened, but he slowly had to agree to look at the near future, just to make sure they ordered what they needed. But that's as far ahead as Nicholas ever plans to look, thinking ahead and making plans something he refuses to do ever again. All it's done to him is crush his hope and break his heart.
Insanity and the law have a way of disagreeing. Especially when it comes to the Samuels. Adrian has never had too much of a problem with the authorities, detached enough to realize that life is less of a hassle if he keeps to the legal, or at least keeping any of his more questionable activities on the down low. Caspian, however, has more of a problem with that. That personality is volatile, almost manic, and doesn’t care who finds out about what he does, as long as he does what he likes. The Samuels have a criminal record because of Caspian’s transgressions, something which has fucked up their chances at anything beyond the salon. No one wants to hire a split personality, especially when half of that is Caspian. Add a criminal record and… the Samuels really don’t stand a chance.
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Though he’s no longer a smile without a cat, Chase’s grin still has a way of horrifying people or captivating them. The boy has a tendency to cause mischief, chaos, fascinated by the world when it’s governed by illogic, not man’s order. His Cheshire grin appears whenever he sees something that fascinates him, any time he starts driving people mad. Though it can’t just be his grin which has an eerie effect. According to some, it isn’t the smile himself which makes Chase look wild and mad, but the look in his eyes when he wears it. Apparently he has a tendency to stare, to stop blinking when he grins, and coupled with a grin that stretches from ear to ear, it horrifies the sane.
If it were his choice, Mikhail’s house would be spartan and modern. But, despite being the house’s only living resident, he doesn’t have the option to make the house as empty as he’d like. His father was very fond of baroque furniture, and the house has been filled with tapestries, paintings, couches, wardrobes, and anything and everything else for as long as Mikhail can remember. He supposes that what goes into the house should be his choice now, but he can’t bring himself to get rid of the things his father was so fond and proud of. And storing them isn’t an option, as the house is too full and large, and Storybook doesn’t have a great many storage facilities. So Mikhail’s house continues to be filled with more than he could ever use, and more than he wants.
It’s no secret that Bently grew up in the city, not a small town like Storybrooke. He likes it better in the small town, finding the quaint, peaceful atmosphere a place where his nerves aren’t nearly as overwhelming. The lower crime rate and mundaneness of everything make him feel comfortable, or at least better than the city. The one thing that keeps him on edge in suburbia is the missing girl that he and Bianca have been sent to find, Ginny.
It isn’t that Benny doesn’t like the city, always having an option of something to do should be nice. But growing up in a bad neighborhood really had an effect on Bently. His first memory of the apartment he grew up in was the sound of a gunshot, followed by bloodcurdling screaming, right outside his bedroom window. His skittishness, though partially just his nature, only was made worse by the fact that keeping his head down was a necessary part of staying alive. As long as he wasn’t noticed, he could walk from home to school and back again in peace, without needing to worry about gangs of drug using assholes or kids looking for a fight.
So yes, the boredom of suburbia makes Bently happy. At least there’s no screaming in the middle of the night.
